ught and by
reading, how little did I dream that I was so becoming prepared to free
my race, to reign, and then to die of cold and hunger, such as the
meanest slave never knows! Then the next eight years of toil--they seem
longer than all that went before. Doubtless they were lengthened to me,
to make my weak powers equal to the greatness of my task; for every day
of conducting war, and making laws, appeared to me stretched out into a
year. These late seasons of reverse have passed over more rapidly, for
their suffering has been less. While all, even to Henri, have pitied me
during these latter years, they knew not that I was recovering the peace
which I shall now no more lose. It is true that I erred, according to
the common estimate of affairs, in not making myself a king, and
separating my country from France, as France herself is compelling her
to separate at last. It is true, I might now have been reigning there,
instead of dying here; and, what is more worthy of meditation, my people
might now have been laying aside their arms, and beginning a long career
of peace. It might possibly have been so; but at what cost! Their
career of freedom (if freedom it could then have been called) would have
begun in treason and in murder; and the stain would have polluted my
race for ever. Now, they will have freedom still--they cannot but have
it, though it is delayed. And upon this freedom will rest the blessing
of Heaven. We have not fought for dominion, nor for plunder; nor, as
far as I could govern the passions of men, for revenge. We began our
career of freedom in fidelity, in obedience, and in reverence towards
the whites; and therefore may we take to ourselves the blessing of Him
who made us to be free, and demands that we be so with clean hands and a
pure heart. Therefore will the freedom of Saint Domingo be but the
beginning of freedom to the negro race. Therefore may we hope that in
this race will the spirit of Christianity appear more fully than it has
yet shown itself among the proud whites--show itself in its gentleness,
its fidelity, its disinterestedness, and its simple trust. The proud
whites may scorn this hope, and point to the ignorance and the passions
of my people, and say, `Is this your exhibition of the spirit of the
Gospel?' But not for this will we give up our hope. This ignorance,
these passions, are natural to all men, and are in us aggravated and
protracted by our slavery. Remove them